


Tadpolery

by misura



Category: King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)
Genre: Consentacles, Other, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "Hi there. Reckoned it might be time to have ourselves a little chat."





	Tadpolery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



Arthur looked at the Syrens, and the Syrens stared back.

Seeing as how they were supposedly immortal by way of being undead, and also seeing as how he was not nearly as much an idiot as certain people had seemed to think upon being told of his intention to have this meeting, Arthur decided to say something. Any which way you spun it, he was going to be the first to blink - might as well _not_ make a contest out of it.

What he said was, "Hi there. Reckoned it might be time to have ourselves a little chat."

"You are the born king," one of them said. By way of a conversation get-goer, it left something to be desired.

Arthur figured he'd sort of had that coming: basic manners, really. "All right, you're right, my bad. My name's Arthur. What's yours?"

Back Lack snorted. Back Lack hadn't so much as raised an objection when Arthur'd gotten his knife out, so Arthur figured he'd let him have this one, and all the berating, after, if this didn't work out.

"Now, look," he said. "I rung the bell, I spilled the blood of my very good friend here. I figure that entitles me to just a bit of customer service, yeah? I mean, I could bang on for a bit here about how I could tear the place down and good luck to you finding yourselves a new clientele, but I always figure, why make enemies when you can have friends instead?"

"Hurt like a bitch, too," Back Lack said, lifting his bandaged hand by way of proof.

"You are the born king," another one of them said.

Arthur wondered if they were missing someone, if maybe this whole spiel was like when you had a nice bunch of customers come in, only three of the girls were out with the flu and the other ones were all busy already, so you poured the fellows some wine on the house and told a couple of dirty jokes to keep them in the proper mood, until such time as they might avail themselves of the services advertised.

"I didn't come crawling out of an egg, no, if that's your point," he said. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind." Never imply you might think less of the customer than you did of yourself - unless that's what they were paying you for, of course.

Some slithering went on. Back Lack eyed the stairs in a wistful sort of way.

"Come into the water," two of them said. The third just smiled at him, nice and smug, showing teeth.

"That's new, isn't it?" Arthur asked. "What gives? My friend's blood not good enough for you?"

One of them vanished under water. The third one gestured expansively, speaking up for the first time. "A special deal."

Arthur knew all about special deals. They were what you foisted on what you might call 'tricky customers', generally with the notion of making them a bit less tricky and a lot more unlikely to ever return. "Sorry, sister, but you're going to have to give me a little more than that. I mean, we all want things to be nice and clear here, don't we?"

The third Syren revealed the result of centuries of excellent dental care once more. "We'll give you what you want, if you give us what we want."

"And what you want is for me to get wet?"

The one who'd vanished popped up again. "You won't drown."

"Art, I've got a really bad feeling about this," Back Lack said.

Arthur weighed his desire to get this over with versus his - well, might as well admit it, desire to find out firsthand what it'd feel like to get in bed, so to speak, with ladies whose parts were of the slithery kind. It wasn't what he'd come for, true, but now that the idea had taken root, it held a certain appeal.

Put like that, it wasn't much of a choice, really. He'd bent over for worse and come away fine.

"Back, why don't you get yourselves up those stairs. Have someone take a look at that hand of yours."

Back Lack gave him a look. "Hand's fine, Art. Doesn't even hurt anymore."

"I meant that less by way of a suggestion and more by way of an order," Arthur said.

Back Lack chewed on that for a bit. "I'll go find the Mage."

"By all means." Arthur stripped off his shirt. The Syrens's attention seemed to sharpen, though that might be vanity talking. He grinned at them anyway, on the basis that a saucy grin had never done anyone any harm.

Back Lack muttered something Arthur devoutly hoped wasn't the sort of language he used around Blue as he walked up the stairs, not looking back. Arthur took off his boots.

He definitely had the attention of his audience by the time he started in on his pants, so he drew that bit out for a while - not too long, just the right amount of time to let them know he knew, and that he didn't mind.

Then it was do-or-die time, and Arthur figured dying wasn't much of an option, so into the water he went. It wasn't as cold as he'd expected, which meant he felt confident of his assets showing to his advantage, assuming the ladies had any interest in those.

"So how're we going to do this?" he asked. Two of them were underwater, with only the third one still up and about, eying him the way dozens of customers had eyed him before. It was all nice and familiar so far, apart from, well, the water and the tentacles and all that.

The third one chuckled and opened her arms, which Arthur supposed was as clear an answer as any.

 

Things got pretty intense for a while, though not unpleasantly so, he didn't think. The tentacles were good clean fun - or good dirty fun, if that was the way you wanted to go.

They took turns with him, appearing to have worked out an order in advance, which solved that particular problem neatly. In Arthur's experience, when you got multiple customers, letting them let you choose who to start with rarely ended well. Assumptions were made, feelings got hurt. Explaining you didn't care one way or another never helped.

All in all, a good time was had by all, he thought. His assets went neglected for most of the proceedings, by way of tentacles being quite amenable to being touched and sucked on and slipping into orifices meant for slipping things in, if one was so inclined, but not having much use for any part of his that fulfilled the same function, albeit in a more limited fashion.

The third one used her hands, her tentacles being in the process of being put to the use they had clearly been made for, which was nice of her. Arthur didn't have much left in him by that point, but he tried to make his next moan extra appreciative by way of saying 'thanks'.

He felt light-headed, but in a nice way, not like he was about to pass out because he hadn't come up for air in a good while. It didn't keep him from passing out when they deposited him back at the foot of the stairs, though that might be exhaustion takings its toll.

 

"You!" Bedivere said, jumping up from his seat the moment Arthur stumbled in.

Back Lack'd been a busy bee, clearly. The Mage was there, and Percival and Tristan and even Bill, whom Arthur could've sworn had gone to his estate up north for a couple of days, to deal with some Vikings who hadn't gotten the memo about raids being a no-no.

"Alive and well, as you can see," he said. "Nice seeing everyone. Bed. Percy. Wet. Bill."

Nods all around. Smiles, not so much.

"Now, fellows, what's with the frowns? I'd almost begin to think you weren't all that glad to see me."

"Three days!" Bedivere said, honest-to-God wagging his finger. "Three! We thought you dead! Or worse!"

"I didn't," Bill said, which got him a dirty look.

"What can I say?" Arthur shrugged. "Three of them, one of me, you do the math." It hadn't _felt_ like three days - three hours, maybe, but no need to mention that right now, he judged. "The important thing is, I'm here, I'm fine and I'm ready for duty. So what do you need me for today?"

Bedivere grumbled a bit and Bill smirked a bit, and Tristan and Percival gave each other looks. They all got on with things in the end though, which was nice of them.

Or they would have, if only the Mage hadn't up and come at him, putting a hand on his stomach and then saying, voice as cool as you please, "You're pregnant."

"Well, fuck me," Arthur said.

"I'll take a number," she said.

Bill started laughing.


End file.
